


Once upon a time, there was a girl and a man

by Magpies_and_candywrappers



Category: Carrie - Stephen King, Joker (2019)
Genre: What am I doing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 17:13:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21359758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpies_and_candywrappers/pseuds/Magpies_and_candywrappers
Summary: They grew angrier and angrier and the city felt the impending fever
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	Once upon a time, there was a girl and a man

The girl sitting on a dirty crate between the buildings startled him. He had not expected anyone to be there, much less a girl. Arthur suspected she was the daughter of a tenant. She sat passively in the light rain, hair that could have been a nice blonde, darkened by the rain. It was frizzy and only had the barest hints of curls at the end. Maybe if she was careful she could have long honey curls. And maybe one could say she was not crying that it was merely raindrops sliding down her face. But what other reason would a young girl be out here?

“Are you okay?” Arthur asked her softly. Someone had to ask.

“Ohuh?” she made the small noise at his question, a little croak of a sound. She looked at him confused as if she couldn’t understand where he’d come from. Her hair which was limp around her face concealed some of her pimples, while her large sweater merely hinted at her weight. Still, Arthur could tell she was a plump girl. Did the kids at her school tease her for that?

His shirts, sweater vests, and coats concealed his frame. Arthur wasn’t sure what to say next.

“Here,” he said, reached into his pocket to withdraw a napkin. She saw what he had and winced as if...as if what, Arthur wasn’t sure. He held it out to her and the girl took it tentatively, staring at the napkin as if it might somehow hurt her. “What do you call a fly without wings?” he asked, starting to smile. She stared at him with dark eyes. “ A walk,” he said. She gave the softest of giggles. “I’m Arthur Fleck,” he told her.

“Carrie White,” she whispered, so soft he almost didn’t hear her. Oh, she was Margaret White’s daughter. Mrs. White didn’t like him or Sophie. He suspected she didn’t like many people if the things he’d heard about her were any indication. 

“You live with your mama?” she asked and he nodded.

“Yes, Carrie. I take care of her,” he told her. She relaxed an infinitesimal amount. He didn’t catch it. “That’s nice,” she said then blushed. He heard a window sliding open, a shrill voice. 

“Carrriiieeee,” a woman called. Carrie’s eyes bulged and she shot up, nearly crashing into Arthur. It wouldn’t have taken much to knock him over, truly. 

“I-I have to go, Mr. Arthur,” she stammered. She scurried away before he could say anything else. Later, Arthur couldn’t know his attackers. Many people didn’t. One of them was named Billy Nolan. And his cruelty was just beginning, however short-lived it was destined to be.

It was two days after she got her period. She thought of Arthur Fleck as she sewed a new skirt. It was gray with the slightest hint of purple. She found herself wondering what it would be like to run a hand through his hair. It struck her suddenly and was gone just as fast.

Carrie wondered what his mother was like. Sometimes, she went down a floor and watched television with Mrs. Dougherty, who was eighty years old and believed in God like her mama. That was how she was allowed to go there at all. Though she was not as severe. Carrie knew her mama would never let her see the Fleck woman.

She could never be alone near a boy...a man. Arthur Fleck kind of looked a teacher. Was he one? He was nice to her like Ms. Desjardin. He wouldn’t play a joke on her. She prayed he wouldn’t. She sensed her mother coming. Carrie kept sewing.

“Did you talk to the Fleck man?” Mama hissed. Carrie felt her shoulders hunching.

“It was nothing mama. He gave me a tissue,” she whispered. Her classmates laughed at her. But he made her laugh. Margaret White stood.

“I told you, Carrie. They smell the blood and they come sniffing like dogs. He smells you!” she said shrilly and Carrie stood up quickly, knocked her chair back and stumbled backward.

“Don’t say that, mama!” Carried cried. He was just a neighbor. He wasn’t here to defend himself. “H-he’s nice! He takes care of his own mama,” she protested.

“Go the closet and pray. Pray to gain your strength, Carrie,” her mother commanded. “Pray so that you will not be weak like Eve,” she said.

“No,” Carrie said darkly.

The building seemed to shudder. The lights flickered. Arthur paused in his messy writings and stood. He checked on his mother who was sleeping. He didn’t know what it was. 

There was graffiti scrawled on a filthy restroom wall.

“Carrie White eats shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to add another chapter but I don't think I can do it. I like this where it stands on its own as a single chapter with the mere implications of both these characters going down their paths.


End file.
